The Good Girl
by LeahConstance
Summary: With a little help from Torres, Cal makes Gillian realize that being a good girl is not necessarily a bad thing.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Good Girl

Author: Leah

Summary: With a little help from Torres, Cal makes Gillian realize that being a good girl is not necessarily a bad thing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: It's been years since I've written fanfiction so please bear with me. :p This is my first LTM fanfiction but hopefully not the last.

Chapter 1

Thursday morning found Gillian Foster and Ria Torres having coffee in Gillian's office while briefly discussing their newest case.

"So, any other questions regarding the client meeting later?" Gillian asked Torres as she closed the folder before her.

Seated across Gillian's desk, Torres closed her own folder. "No. Everything's clear so far. The case seems pretty straightforward to me."

Gillian picked up her mug and took a sip of her coffee. "The _case_ is pretty straightforward. I just wish I could say the same about Mr. and Mrs. Howard."

Torres shifted in her seat and leaned forward, interest lighting up her face. "Oh, so they've sought our services before?"

"Lots of times. They're one of our first clients, actually," Gillian replied. "Also one of the most difficult and demanding. But they're good people, and they pay well. Besides, they really like Cal."

"Really now?" Torres knew for a fact that not a lot of people liked his boss. "Why's that?"

"They're British, too."

Torres smiled. "Ah. That explains it."

Both women startled when the door to Gillian's office suddenly opened and in walked Cal Lightman.

"Speaking of the devil… Cal! I didn't expect you to be in until after lunch," Gillian exclaimed as she rose from her seat.

Cal shrugged out of his coat as he walked towards the desk. "Yeah, well, I didn't fancy being alone in the house this morning when I arrived, so…"

"Torres." Cal nodded at Torres when he passed by her chair.

Reaching Gillian's side, Cal unhesitatingly brushed his body against hers and kissed her a tad lingeringly on the cheek. "Hello, darling."

Gillian smiled at the warm timbre of Cal's greeting. Her eyes searched over his slightly tanned face. She brought a hand up and cupped his jaw, his stubble tickling her palm. "Spend a lot of your time under the sun in Florida, did you, Dr. Lightman? And here I thought you were hard at work on a case," she teased.

Cal made a show of looking affronted. "For you information, Dr. Foster, I did work hard under the blasted Florida sun. Sweated like a pig the whole time. Got sand in my bloody shoes. Not to mention suffered the longing looks from all those women in bikinis…"

Gillian let out a quiet laugh. "Okay, okay, I stand corrected."

Cal grinned mischievously at her.

As Gillian sat back down, Cal picked up Gillian's coffee mug and drank from the side where her lipstick left a mark on the rim. He surreptitiously licked the spot where he drank before placing the mug back on the table. Gillian didn't notice.

But Torres did. She quirked an eyebrow at what she had just witnessed: Cal romancing Gillian's coffee mug. The act didn't look contrived to Torres. Instead, it looked natural and commonplace. It was just like Cal to invade Gillian's personal space in whatever form and manner. It also looked … intimate. Something a lover would do. As far as she knew, her bosses didn't have that kind of relationship despite their constant touches, hugs, and cheek kisses. Torres settled back in her seat and scrutinized the two people in front her, her powers of observation taking in their body language.

"So, did anything exciting happen in the three days I was gone?" Cal asked.

Torres cleared her throat. "Exciting, no. Romantic, definitely yes." She met Gillian's eyes. Both women smiled as they respectively recalled yesterday's happening.

Cal looked questioningly at his protégé. Finding nothing but amusement in her eyes, he turned back to his partner. "You've got that idiotically happy look about you." He narrowed his eyes at Gillian. "Have you got yourself a boyfriend?"

Torres bit back her smile at Cal's accusatory tone.

"No, silly. Heidi got engaged yesterday."

"Did she now?"

Torres sensed his relief. "Jerry—that's Heidi's fiancé—surprised her yesterday by coming to the office. He proposed to her right then and there at the lobby with most of the staff in attendance. It really was romantic."

Cal straightened. "Fantastic! I'd better congratulate her then, and then get back to work." He scowled. "Bloody hell. There must be a great pile on my desk right now." He reached out a hand and gently caressed Gillian's shoulder. "Later, love."

Torres made sure Cal had gone before launching her question at Gillian. "So…" she began.

Gillian smiled at her expectantly. "Yes, Torres?"

"Since when have you and Lightman been sleeping together?"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who sent feedback! Your interest in my story fires up my imagination. I hope you'll like this chapter. :)

Chapter 2

If Gillian had been standing, her knees would've promptly given way and she would've ended up on her ass. "What?" She looked incredulously at Torres as if she had grown two heads.

Torres pursed her lips, her sharp eyes noting every microexpression flickering on Gillian's face. Genuine shock. Disbelief. Embarrassment. Okay, so they weren't sleeping together.

"You heard me. Since when have you and Cal been sleeping together?" Torres pressed on.

Flustered and definitely caught off guard, Gillian's thoughts scattered and her composure vanished. Her emotions surfaced to the fore, making them easy prey for Torres to process. "We're not sleeping together! Cal and I are closer than most friends, yes, but that's just all we are. Good Lord, Torres, what brought this on?"

"I'm not blind, you know. You guys have become more showy with your affection lately. Kissing each other hello and goodbye. Touching each other more. You act like lovers."

Torres noted the blush that pinkened the other woman's cheeks. Definitely mortification. Interesting, she thought. She mentally rubbed her palms together, her eyes gleaming. "Not that there's anything wrong with you guys sleeping together. I mean, you're both single now. I don't have to be a psychologist to see that you are compatible with each other. You complement each other business-wise, personality-wise, intellectually, emotionally…" She whispered emphatically, "Nobody gets Lightman the way you do."

Gillian blinked at the last statement, her gaze becoming bleak.

This did not escape Torres. Vulnerability. Interesting, indeed.

Gillian looked everywhere but at the perceptive woman who was flinging sentiments that her parched heart absorbed like water. Her hands fluttered as she stammered, "I … We're not …" Get a grip, Foster, she admonished herself. She took a deep breath and finally met Torres's unrelenting gaze.

Suddenly the hilarity of the situation struck her. She laughed. The musical quality of her laugh echoed like chimes inside the enclosed room. "Wow, so this is what it feels like to be interrogated by you inside the Cube, Torres. Good job."

Torres grinned. "Thank you… I think." Her gaze softened. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Foster. I guess I just wanted to rattle you a little bit so I could read you because hell yeah I'm curious about what's going on between you two. But then again it's really none of my business, right? So if you want me to get out of here…"

"No, it's okay," Gillian assured her. She met Torres's eyes unwaveringly. "I know you can see it in my face, but I'll say it anyway … Cal and I are not sleeping together."

"I believe you."

"The question just caught me off guard."

"Why?"

"I mean I can sense that some people wonder if we are, but you're the first one to ask me directly."

"I see. So you've never wondered about the possibility of you sleeping together in the future?"

Gillian leaned into her desk. "No."

Liar, Torres thought.

Gillian continued on. "I can safely say that we have deep affection for each other. However, 'compatible' as we may be in a lot of ways, there is one very important aspect that's lacking in this so-called complementary relationship Cal and I have." Gillian took a deep, shaky breath. "He doesn't want me."

Torres's jaw dropped. Is she blind? Cal's body language earlier on was a dead giveaway. And that mug-licking thing? That was so not platonic. "He doesn't want you," Torres repeated flatly.

Gillian tried but failed not to blush. "He doesn't see me that way," said simply.

Torres looked intently at Gillian. "You mean in a sexual way. Why do you think that is?"

Gillian bit her lip and forced a smile. "I'd rather not answer that question, Torres. Thank you very much."

"I didn't think you would. So let me answer it for you. You think you're not his type."

"I don't _think_. I _know_."

"What is Cal's type of woman then?"

Gillian's reply was instantaneous. "Dangerous."

"Ah, I see. Which explains his attraction to women like Zoey, Clara, and Poppy?"

"How did you know about Poppy?"

"Reynolds," Torres smirked. "So, going back… If those women are dangerous, then I assume that you're the good girl, which explains his zero sexual attraction to you."

Telling yourself that is one thing, but having somebody else point it out to you is quite another, Gillian thought. "Exactly," she said, ignoring the pang of hurt Torres's assumption caused.

"Hmm, okay."

"Okay? So we're done here?" Gillian eyed her skeptically. "We've set the record straight that Cal and I are not sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"Good!" With a sigh of relief, Gillian stood up, bidding Torres to do the same. She so wanted to be left alone with her thoughts. "Let this be the last time we talk about this, all right, Torres?"

"Sure! Because next time, we'll be talking about how _much_ wrong you are about so _many_ of the things you said."

"Really? Like what?"

Torres's eyes glinted with determination. "Like when you said Cal didn't want you. Instead of saying '_I_ don't want him,' you said '_He_ doesn't want me.' Which means that _you_ want _him_."

With an indignant gasp, Gillian rounded her desk and began to push Torres out of her office. "This conversation is over, Torres. Out you go. Now!"

Torres grabbed her folder and fought back a grin as she let Gillian propel her towards the door. "Hah, you're deflecting!" She tried to turn her head to catch Gillian's eyes. "Your lips are saying just part of the truth, Foster, but your eyes… Oh, your eyes are betraying much moreof it."

"They are not."

Gillian finally managed to open the door and push Torres through the doorway—where a surprised Cal, who was on his way back to Gillian's office, stopped in his tracks.

"What's going on? Foster, why are you manhandling Torres?" Cal's voice rang loudly in the hallway.

Gillian glared at Torres, who in turn just righted her blouse and smiled knowingly at Cal and Gillian.

As if nothing extraordinary happened, Gillian turned to Cal. "Oh, I wasn't manhandling her, Cal. I was just showing her out and telling her to focus on work and not on anything else," she explained amiably.

Cal eyed her from head to foot, his brow furrowed. "You're looking flustered, Foster."

She ignored his comment. Instead, she raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Did you forget something?"

He gave her one of his trademark calculating looks.

Gillian tried hard not to squirm.

"As a matter of fact, I did." He turned to Torres. "I forgot to ask you about the pending Gibson file. But since you're done with your meeting…Could you follow me to my office, please?"

"Of course." Torres ducked her head, avoiding Gillian's stare, as she followed Cal down the hallway.

"What was that all about?" Cal asked after a while.

Torres waited until they were entering his office before replying. "As if you didn't know."

Cal stopped and looked at her smug face.

"I know you heard us. There is no Gibson file, pending or otherwise. So I'm betting that's not what you really want to talk to me about."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

* * *

Chapter 3

Cal regarded his protégé partly with annoyance and partly with approval. Torres was turning out to be a deception expert smartass-like him.

"You know, you may be a natural at reading microexpressions, but there are two things that you aren't a natural at," he began.

Changing the subject. Of course. If Foster was relatively easy for her to read, Cal was a different kettle of fish altogether. Torres knew him well enough to know that she wasn't going to get anything from him. He was cunning like that. Either he'd deny everything or say nothing at all even if he'd been the one to steer her to his office under the pretext of a bogus file. Well, two could play this game. "Okay, I'll bite. What?"

Cal smirked. "Subtlety, for one." He turned away from her and walked towards his desk. He draped his coat over the back of his chair. "That's something that you learn and develop over time." He sat down on his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. "But at the rate you're going, you should learn it…fast."

Torres moved until she was standing in front of his desk. "Is that a dig at me for being too aggressive with Foster? You think I shouldn't have interrogated her about something so personal?"

Cal leaned his head back against his chair, his expression deceptively cool. "I'm just saying you have to learn to be more subtle, that's all."

"Look, if you want me to apologize to Foster, then I will. I was just taken aback by what I saw, you know." She shrugged. "I was curious."

"And what exactly is it that you saw?"

Relieved he took the bait, Torres pressed on. "I saw the way you touched Foster… like it was the most natural thing in the world to do to invade her personal space like that and without a protest from her. I saw the way you lingered at kissing her cheek. It wasn't like the usual pecks I would see you give her. It was different… more meaningful. So I wondered whether the two of you were sleeping together." She looked directly into his eyes. "Are you?"

Cal just looked back at her.

Wow. He's really not just good at reading expressions but also at hiding them too, Torres thought in awe. "Anyway, I asked Foster if you were. She said no, which kind of disappointed me. You guys should really get together. I've never known two people more suited to each other. Oh, but let me tell you, she's wondered about the possibility of you two sleeping together even if she denied it to my face."

Again, Cal just looked at her. There was nothing on his face that indicated whether he'd heard the conversation she had with Foster or was just playing along and letting her talk. However, his unresponsiveness didn't faze her. "Foster said she wasn't your type because you prefer your women to be dangerous. Despite that, she wants you. She didn't say it, but I saw it in her face. Well, I'm sure you _already_ know that. However, she said that you didn't want her. Now that's what surprised me the most about everything that she told me because I know that it's not true. You do want her even if she's the _good girl_. I have proof."

Torres could tell Cal was barely keeping his emotions in check. She placed the folder she was holding on the table. She braced her hands on the table and leaned across to him. "You drank her coffee, but instead of drinking from a clean side of the rim, you put your mouth where her lipstick mark was. You licked that spot, too. You wanted her taste in your mouth, didn't you?" She paused for effect, drawing out the imagery of her words. _"Didn't you?_"

Cal swallowed.

_Small victory._ However, now isn't the time to gloat, Torres thought. "So now the question is, what are you going to do about it?" she asked softly but with a serious edge to her tone.

Cal withdrew his feet from the desk but remained seated. He simply stared at her with a shuttered expression.

"Do you know the other thing that you're not a natural at?"

Torres raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Knowing when to stop pushing."

Damn it. Game's over, Torres thought. Properly chastised, she held up her hands as if in surrender. "Okay. I'll back off now."

"Good," Cal said, deadly calm.

She snatched her folder up. "All right, I'm gone."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she made her way to the door. "I've already done more than I intended to anyway," she said under her breath.

* * *

Gillian strode back into her office, still reeling from the unexpectedness of recent events. Feeling the need to sit down, she felt for her desk and held on to it like a lifeline until she found her chair.

God, she couldn't believe she let Torres ambush her. It was an indication of how vulnerable she had become when it came to Cal. Thinking back, maybe she had wanted to be ambushed. Maybe she had seen it as an opportunity to release the emotions that had been threatening to bubble over for a while now-since her divorce, in fact. That was the time she had given herself license to finally entertain her feelings for her partner.

_Since when have you and Cal been sleeping together?_

Torres's not-so-innocent question opened a can of worms for her.

It was a straightforward question to which she provided an honest answer. The matter should've ended there.

But, no. Torres had to reveal her observations frankly. She had to follow them up with leading questions that demanded answers from her. The questions forced her to acknowledge personal issues that drew a lot of emotions from her.

_You act like lovers._

Her cheeks burned_. _She had to be honest. It thrilled her that Torres thought so because having another person see the possibility was like a validation of that possibility. She and Cal were not lovers but they looked it. She and Cal were not lovers…but she hoped they could be. Embarrassed by her own thoughts, she buried her face in her hands and groaned.

Since they first met, her feelings for Cal had evolved from simple professional admiration, respect, and friendship to a complicated mix of love, affection, and attraction. She'd admitted to herself after her divorce that she was attracted to Cal. Despite some people would think, she wasn't immune to his charms. She just had a good way of not showing how he affected her. Cal was touchy-feely with the people he cared about. She could admit without conceit that she was part of the small circle of people whom he gave a damn about. She was his closest friend. His partner in crime. Why would he not care about her?

Thus, she had taken it with a grain of salt when he began giving her small touches. Shoulder caresses given absently or deliberately. Bear hugs. Hand-holding. Cheek kisses. Over the years, she had taken comfort in them but had not thought of them as anything beyond the physical expression of affection from a friend. She was just thankful that she could return those touches without any awkwardness between them. After her divorce, however, she started reacting differently to him. Her heart would leap whenever he'd call her love or darling even if he'd been calling her (and everybody else for that matter) that for years. Her skin would tingle with electricity whenever he'd touch her. It was like her heart and body recognized him every time. The kiss he gave her and the way he called her darling earlier had excited her. Torres had caught her on her slip about Cal not wanting her, which translated to her wanting him. It was true. Gillian wanted him.

_Nobody gets Lightman the way you do._

In her heart she knew that she really did understand Cal. He was such a complex man. The process of getting to know him and understanding him stimulated everything in her. Working alongside him was always challenging. Knowing that he had her back and she had his gave her the security not even Alec could give. He made more enemies than he did friends. She guessed this was the reason why being his friend and partner gave her such a sense of pride. Hearing Torres imply that she was the only one who truly understood him had saddened her because she realized how she desperately wanted it to be true. More than that, it had dawned on her that she also wanted Cal to acknowledge that fact.

_You're the good girl, which explains his zero sexual attraction to you._

Torres had said it in a matter-of-fact tone, and she had agreed in the same manner. But the truth had hurt her.

These days, she often wondered if Cal ever saw her as a woman. Sure, he'd compliment her on her looks and clothes. He was physically affectionate to her. But all these were not indications that he was sexually attracted to her. If she were more of the dangerous type, would Cal look at her at in a different light? She was efficient, safe, and responsible. She was _nice_. So unlike the women he'd been bedding recently. Come to think of it, how could a man be attracted to a woman he'd often accuse of mothering and smothering him?

She'd fallen in love a couple of times in her life, but it was never as intense and as vital as this. And never to a man like Cal.

* * *

The moment Torres left, Cal bounded to his feet. Restless, he walked around his desk. He put his hands on his waist and then stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he strode into his study where he paced back and forth within the small space.

This morning had been a revelation. All because he had forgotten to give Gillian the toy he got her from Florida.

He had been halfway down the corridor when he remembered the Florida orange plushie the size of a stress ball nestled inside his coat pocket. The moment he had seen it at the hotel gift shop he knew he had to get it for her. It had reminded him of her and her particular fondness for orange slushies. And so he had turned around and headed back to Gillian's office. He had been almost at the door when he heard her clear although muted voice.

_We're not sleeping together! Cal and I are closer than most friends, yes, but that's just all we are._

Curiosity had gotten the better of him. He had plastered his back on the wall and listened unashamedly. Looking back, it had been a miracle that he had been able to pull himself together in time to act like he was just approaching the door before Gillian had hustled Torres out.

Torres had been another revelation. She was getting sharper and sharper at reading faces and catching people when they lie. For a bit, Cal felt bad for Gillian for being Torres's testing ground for her developing skills. He barely left unscathed himself, although he tried hard to maintain his self-control by being unresponsive to Torres's leading comments. It had been his intention to draw her into his office and find out about her thoughts about her "interview" with Gillian without revealing anything from his end. The images she evoked while she described how he drank from Gillian's coffee mug nearly undid him. He had to give her points for noticing that and interpreting it correctly. Yes,

However, Gillian had been the most surprising revelation. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never got the impression that she saw him as a man even after her divorce and she became single again. She'd always been naturally caring about him and she'd made no bones about it. She tended to mother him. Yes, he'd grouse about it, but deep down, he liked it when she'd do that.

For the record, he'd been aware of her as a woman the first time they met in her office at the Pentagon. Objectively, he'd found her stunning. However, his interest in her had quickly transcended the superficial when he'd found himself connecting with her intellectually. He rarely had that with a woman. Come to think of it, he only had that kind of connection with Gillian. The second time he met her, he'd caught her bobbing her head in time with the jazz music she'd been listening to in her office. His approval of her had gone up a notch then. I could listen to that all day, he'd told her. He knew then that he could also connect with her at a personal level. For the most part, he'd always thought of her as his best friend who'd always save him from trouble and most of all from himself. She'd always been like family to him, someone he ranked up there with Emily. Because of that, he'd treated her differently from all the other women in his life—even from his ex-wife. Gillian had the privilege of receiving special treatment from him because she was that—special. Precious. He considered himself lucky to have her in his life because despite _himself_, she was always there for him and Emily. Thanks to Torres's incessant prodding, another dimension to his relationship with Gillian had been made known to him. She wasn't just his best friend who happened to be woman. She was also a woman who happened to want him.

Cal stopped his pacing and collapsed onto his couch.

This led him to another revelation, which encompassed everything he had found out today. Gillian really was his blind spot. Torres could read her just fine. Apparently, he could read Gillian when it comes to the obvious things but not when it comes to significant personal matters—like her true feelings for him.

Gillian wanted him. She'd thought about the likelihood of them sleeping together.

He sank deeper into the couch. He let the idea swirl around his head until it settled warmly in his heart, rooting deeply. A chuckle bubbled out of him, followed by full-blown laughter. _Gillian wanted him._ A daft smile lingered on his face. About time she did.

He started thinking about her differently when he first suspected Alec could be cheating on her. He had seen through his ready excuses and so had Torres. However, as it turned out, what he'd thought was Alec's infidelity was actually his drug addiction. He didn't understand how any man would want to risk his marriage to someone like Gillian for a temporary high. She was intelligent, compassionate, and beautiful. She was classy and yet down to earth. There was a certain naïveté about her that really appealed to him. She was caring and nurturing. She was everything a man could ever want. That was the time he realized that she was everything _he_ could ever want. But that knowledge didn't do him any good because after her divorce, there had been no indication from her that she could also feel that way about him. That was the reason he didn't pursue her, not because she wasn't his type. He contented himself with touching her within the boundaries they'd set for themselves. But sometimes, he'd be so bold as to get around the rules, so to speak. He'd invade her personal space, check her out when she was not looking, touch her longer than usual and hope that she wouldn't mind. Lately, he'd developed the habit of snatching up her coffee mug after she'd drunk from it so he could taste her. That was the only way he could.

But this morning's events would finally change the dynamics between them. Thanks to Torres.

_So now the question is, what are you going to do about it?_

Torres's question echoed in his head. So she think they should get together, eh? Excitement surged in his chest. Damn the paperwork. He'd rather sit here and think about the many answers he had to that question.

Just then the phone rang. Reluctantly, he got up and went back to his office to answer it. It was Heidi telling him that there were people outside to see him. He told her to show them right in and then congratulated her on her engagement.

After putting the phone down, his hand reached over to his coat pocket and drew out Gillian's orange plushie. He smiled.

* * *

Her phone ringing interrupted Gillian's thoughts, pulling her back to the present. She lifted the handset.

"Yes."

"I need you—"

Her heart leaped in her chest.

"—in my office right now."

They way Cal said the words made her knees week. Just then she remembered that Torres was in his office. Worry nagged her. Did Torres say something to Cal? She cleared her throat. "Why? Is it important?"

"Of course, it's important! Would I want you here if it weren't?"

"Is Torres still there?" She tried to sound nonchalant.

"Just get here, love." He hung up.

Assuming the worst, Gillian worried her bottom lip. She was going to kill Torres! Whatever it was, she was going to deny it or lie through her teeth. Panic welled inside her. He couldn't find out about her feeling for him. If she'd been able to lie to Cal before to protect him and his family without him realizing it, then she could do so again. However, this time she'd be doing it for selfish reasons. She'd be doing it to protect her heart.

Standing up, she schooled her features into a semblance of her usual professional visage, concealing the inner turbulence of her thoughts and emotions. Her profession had taught her to master the art of presenting a calm and polite mask to conceal her feelings. This should be easy.

* * *

Author's Notes: I apologize for not being able to upload this sooner. It took me longer because aside from work messing up my writing schedule, I have to admit that this chapter was very tricky to write. I originally intended to split this into two chapters, but I didn't want to break up the flow. So yeah, it's longer than the previous chapter. I found it hard to write Gillian and Cal's respective introspections as I had to check and recheck them for consistency. So if there are loopholes, sorry about that. I still hope though that you'll like how this chapter turned out. :p

Now that I'm done with the apologies, allow me now to thank you all for your comments and encouragement! I truly appreciate them. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie To Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: With regard to Clara, Episode 2x15 never happened in this story. As for Tim Roth's eye color, there doesn't seem to be a general consensus on that from what I've read. Most say they're blue, but they look hazel to me so I'm sticking to that. ;p Thank you very much to everyone who sent feedback! I appreciate your time in reading each chapter and your effort in sending reviews. I'm very touched by all your comments. :)

* * *

Chapter 4

Gillian's calm demeanor held as she walked towards Cal, who was lounging on his chair with his feet up on his desk. It vanished when she was nearly hit in the face by what seemed like an orange furball that Cal threw in her direction. Good thing she caught it with her hand just in time. She looked at him incredulously.

Cal grinned. "Forgot to give that to you earlier."

Gillian looked down at the orange plushie in her hand, noting the adorable expression of the stuffed toy's eyes and mouth. She squeezed it and was surprised when it squeaked. "I'm guessing you got this from Florida."

"It screamed Gillian at me."

She pursed her lips, fighting back a smile. "Okay. So I remind you of an orange."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Orange slushy."

"Ah." Now she got the connection. She guessed that she should be flattered that he paid attention enough to remember what she liked and didn't. She held up the plushie and squeezed it again. "Thanks. So is this what you made me come here for?"

"Not quite, love." Cal got up from his chair and stalked towards her with an almost predatory look on his face.

Her guard went up.

He stopped mere inches from her face.

Gillian's breath hitched. "What are you doing?"

Cal's gaze traveled all over her face, taking in the worry in her eyes, which she tried to hide by raising her eyebrow at him, and the tension around her mouth.

Then he zeroed in on her eyes. Hazel met blue. "I'm just looking at you," he murmured. _With new eyes._

Gillian blinked. "Why?"

"Just testing a theory…"

"Which is?"

"Maybe you need to have your eyes checked."

"What for? My eyes are fine."

"Hmm, indeed?"

He was so near she could feel his breath on her face.

"Then why is it that you're having trouble looking at what's in front of you?" he asked softly. He saw her brow furrow in confusion.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Bloody hell, woman, you're as blind as a bat. We both are," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Cal, what are you talking ab-"

"Ahem."

Cal pulled back a bit and turned his head towards the doorway, annoyed at the interruption.

"Clara."

"Hello, Cal."

Rather disoriented, Gillian turned towards the voice and was arrested by Clara's presence. She was a tempting vision in a beige jacket and a green dress. Unconsciously, she stepped back away from Cal. She took a deep, fortifying breath. "Hello, Clara." Her voice was pleasant, professional.

"Am I interrupting…?" Clara asked, her eyes boring into Gillian.

Cal butted in before Gillian could answer. "Isn't this too early for a social call?"

Clara sauntered in, giving Cal a sexy and confident smile. "Well, I just dropped by to see if I could pry you away from the office for lunch."

Cal fixed his eyes on Clara. "I actually have people waiting for me right now in the conference room. I don't know what time I'll be free."

Gillian edged out of their vicinity slowly, her eyes helplessly darting from Cal to Clara. The attraction between them had been palpable since the beginning. She didn't want to watch them, didn't want to hear them, but it wasn't as if she had a choice.

As if the heavens knew her dilemma, Torres suddenly appeared by the doorway. "Uh, excuse me. Foster? The Howards are here."

Despite their earlier encounter, Gillian felt like rushing towards Torres and giving her a hug. Relief showed on her face, but her voice remained composed. "Okay, I'll be there in a minute. I'll just get the documents from my office."

With an affirmative nod, Torres left.

Gillian turned to the other occupants of the room with a smile. "I'll go ahead…"

But Cal reached out and captured her wrist before she could move. His thumb grazed her soft skin. "I expect an orange slushy in return," he said, indicating what she was holding in her hand.

"You don't like that stuff."

He held her gaze. "I could be convinced."

"Okay," she said easily. She'd agree to anything just to get out of the room. She nodded at Clara, and then moved out of Cal's grasp.

Clara's voice drifted towards her. "So, how about we go to that new Greek restaurant…"

Gillian picked up her pace the moment she was out of their sight. She really didn't want to hear about their plans.

_I get a toy, and she gets a lunch date_. _Great._ The unbidden thought made her cringe. She had no right to be jealous. Cal could take anyone he wanted to lunch. To dinner. To bed. She shook her head as if she could physically banish all thoughts of orange slushies and hazel eyes from her mind. Work. She had work to do. Work was her salvation. Focus on work. This day had gone off track long enough.

* * *

Meanwhile, Heidi was on her way to Cal's office to drop off some invitations that had just come in when a furious Clara, her beautiful face twisted into an ugly expression, burst from Cal's office and nearly collided with her.

She heard Clara grumble venomously, "I can't believe that man."

Heidi watched Clara make her way to the entrance door. She knew that look. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: My **heartfelt** thanks to everyone who shared their thoughts about the characters in general and my story in particular. Your comments and your effort in sending them are much appreciated. You've all been so kind. Thank you! I'm just happy that you're still liking my interpretation of how the Cal/Gillian relationship should play out. As for Clara, I don't want to give the rest of the story away, but suffice it to say that I never intended to give her much screen time. Yes, I don't like her either. ;p

Chapter 5

Cal was in a foul mood. He was swamped in paperwork. What made it worse was that the afternoon was wearing away, but he had yet to see Gillian today.

A week had passed since that day Torres forced his eyes open, so to speak, but things hadn't progressed between him and Gillian at all. He never had the chance. They had new clients every damn day, which was something he really shouldn't complain about. They needed the income now more than ever, considering the financial muck he'd landed them in. What he just didn't like about the present situation was that work prevented him from seeing much more of her. They had to split up in order to accommodate all the clients. He'd only see snatches of her. Either she was out in the field with Torres or Loker or she was in a meeting with another new client. When they talked, they'd talk about business, their cases, and sometimes Emily, but it didn't get more personal than that.

At the back of his mind, he suspected that Gillian was liking the situation because it allowed her to bury herself in work… and hide from him. There were so many emotions she was desperately trying to conceal from him. He also saw her vulnerability. He saw that much when he finally _read_ her. For the meantime, he'd allowed her to run but not for long.

As the days passed, he was becoming more and more convinced that Clara interrupting them had been providential. Initially, he had been pissed at her for ruining his moment with Gillian. But understanding Gillian's vulnerability, he was glad that the moment did not move on beyond that. It hadn't been the right time to confront her with the truth. Tease her about it, yes, but force her to acknowledge it, no. Not yet. Another good thing that came out of the interruption was that he finally realized to himself that no other woman could hold a candle to Gillian. He had to admit that Clara had physically appealed to him at the beginning. She was beautiful and alluring. But between Gillian and Clara, there was no contest. What he had felt for Clara or any other woman he'd associated with since his divorce, including Zoey, was fleeting and shallow. Nothing could ever compare to the deep, true, and thrilling connection he had with Gillian. The moment he found out through Torres that Gillian could feel the same way he felt about her, all thoughts and intentions of pursuing other women vanished from his mind. Sending Clara on her way had been mere formality on his part. When he turned down her invitation to lunch, Clara had asked him if it was because of Gillian. She'd told him that she'd felt the undercurrent between him and Gillian the moment she stepped into his office. He'd told her as pleasantly as he could that it was none of her business. Although he regretted the situation, he wasn't sorry he turned her down. He was sure that it was only her pride that he hurt.

The jealousy he sensed in Gillian at that time delighted and bothered him at the same time. It delighted him because it was proof of her non-platonic feelings for him. But it also bothered him because he didn't like her feeling insecure about herself with regard to her place and importance in his life. He'd wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but the moment hadn't been right. Instead, he'd settled for giving her a small touch that conveyed that he hadn't forgotten her even with Clara there. He was more than willing to cast out all her insecurities—provided the work let up. Damn it.

With a frustrated sigh, Cal signed off another report and plunked it down on his "done" pile. His gaze caught the sight of Emily's notebooks on his desk and wondered where she'd gone off to. She'd said she was going to get something to eat twenty minutes ago.

Just then his phone buzzed with a text message. _With Gillian outside by the food stalls. Hurry._

Well. Cal rubbed his hands expectantly. Gillian might have escaped him at the moment but apparently not his daughter.

* * *

Emily and Gillian sat contentedly side by side eating Italian ice on the bench shaded from the afternoon sun by trees.

Gillian closed her eyes and sighed as she savored the ice melting in her mouth. The day had been filled with one meeting after another and after all that, this was heaven.

"You've got bags under your eyes. You're working too hard, Gillian," Emily said gently.

Gillian opened her eyes and looked at Cal's daughter fondly. She'd been on her way out for a snack when Emily chanced upon her and asked if she could join her. Of course she'd said yes. She'd always enjoyed Emily's company. There was no awkwardness between them when they were together even if she was quite frank about her thoughts. A trait Gillian was certain Emily got from her father.

Gillian spooned ice into her mouth. "I know, sweetheart, but there's just too much work."

Emily nudged her shoulder. "All work and no play makes Gillian a dull girl, you know."

Gillian laughed quietly. "When things settle down maybe then I'll think about 'play.'"

"Have you gone out on a date after your divorce?" Emily asked, looking intently at Gillian's face.

Gillian concentrated on stabbing her spoon in her ice. "No."

"Why not? Someone like you shouldn't be alone."

That made Gillian lift her head and look at Emily.

"You're everything a man could ever want."

She didn't know how to reply to that.

"So why are you not dating yet?" Emily persisted.

Gillian shrugged. "I don't know. There's no one I'm interested in at the moment, I guess. And it's not as if there's anyone who's interested in me …"

Emily gasped. "I so don't believe that!"

"What don't you believe, love?" Cal intoned from behind them.

Both Gillian and Emily turned their heads to watch Cal go around them and wedge himself between them on the bench. The three of them were a tight squeeze so Cal lifted his right arm and settled it around his daughter's shoulders. His left arm found home around Gillian's shoulders.

"Ah, yes," he sighed as he happily settled back against the bench. He pulled Gillian and Emily against him, causing both women to squeak. "Finally some alone time with my girls."

"Your girls, huh," Emily teased.

The memory of Jimmy Doyle referring to his wife and daughter as his "girls" suddenly struck Gillian. She looked at Cal, finding him looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Definitely."

She knew then that they were thinking of the same thing. Warmth spread inside her.

"So what don't you believe, Em?" Cal asked again.

"Well, I was asking Gillian why she wasn't dating, and she said that she's not interested in anyone right now…"

"That's good to know." Cal did not take his eyes off Gillian, who thought it best to focus on finishing her ice.

"…and no one's interested in her."

Cal's eyebrows lifted to his hairline. "Really now?"

"Can't you get a date for Gillian, Dad, please?"

Over my dead body, Cal thought. He squeezed Gillian's arm. "Is that what you want? You want me to set you up on a blind date?" he asked tongue-in-cheek.

She turned her head to face Cal and wrinkled her nose at him. "Not interested."

Cal pulled a face. "I know. Blind dates are not my cup of tea either."

Emily leaned into Cal. "You've been on a blind date? When was this? Why didn't I know this?"

"Whoa, slow down, Em. It was a long time ago, a few months after your mum and I divorced. It was set up by no less than Foster here. After that night, however, I've sworn off blind dates."

Remembering that particular incident, Gillian couldn't help the giggle that slipped past her lips.

Emily reached across and shook Gillian's arm. "Why, what happened?" she asked excitedly.

Gillian glanced at Cal, amusement lighting up her face. "Your Dad was feeling kind of depressed that time so I asked him if he was interested in going on a blind date. You know, just dinner, nothing serious. Back then, a friend of mine, Tessa, had just broken off with her boyfriend and was in the same boat as Cal. Both parties said yes, and so I set them up. Everything was all arranged- the date, the time, the place…"

"But then the bloody woman didn't show up!" Cal exclaimed.

"My friend got cold feet," Gillian explained to Emily in a whisper.

"And there I was in that bloody expensive restaurant looking brand spanking new and I got stood up!"

Emily looked disbelievingly at her Dad. "That's the reason you won't go on blind dates anymore—because you got stood up? That's so lame, Dad! Everyone gets stood up at one point in their life. It's a fact of life!"

"For your information, Em, that was the first time I've ever been stood up in my whole life!" Cal appealed to his daughter. "I was distraught! My ego was traumatized!"

Gillian burst out laughing.

Emily rolled her eyes. "So what did you do? Did you just leave?"

"Of course not. I didn't want the evening to go to waste so I called up Foster and we had a very nice dinner." He turned to Gillian. "Didn't we, darling?"

Gillian's eyes turned dreamy. "Oh yes! We ordered this very luscious chocolate fudge cheesecake for dessert…"

Cal turned to Emily and explained matter-of-fact, "Good thing there was nothing left of my ego that could be shattered that night because she paid more attention to the cheesecake than me."

Gillian snapped out of her trance. "Hey, I lent a sympathetic ear to your woes," she chided him.

"After you finished off the whole cheesecake."

Heat bloomed in her cheeks. "It was just a small cheesecake and you know it, Cal Lightman!"

"Yeah, yeah. Admit it! You were there because of the dessert! Some friend you were…"

Emily watched in amazement as the lighthearted banter continued between Cal and Gillian. She'd always thought that watching them was like watching an old married couple, at least her idea of how old married couples should be. They knew each other so well. They were both smiling. Her Dad looked happy, and the stress seemed to have left Gillian's face. For the millionth time, she wished they'd hook up. Her dad had been complaining all week about their workload and not seeing Gillian enough… Maybe it wouldn't hurt to push things along towards that direction.

"Hey, Dad, maybe you could take Gillian and me to dinner to that restaurant. I want a taste of that cheesecake, too!"

Cal stopped midsentence and regarded his daughter with pride. "Now that's the best idea I've heard all day."

Emily clasped Gillian's hand excitedly.

A delighted smile appeared on Gillian's face.

"Uh-oh, Foster's eyes are glazing over again," Cal teased.

They all laughed.

Loker had been on his way to the food stalls when he heard Lightman's distinct London accent. He spotted him on a bench with his arms around Foster and Emily looking so happy. He didn't think he'd ever seen Lightman look this positively content. Moments like this deserved to be immortalized, he thought. Sneaking in front of them, he took out his camera phone.

"Oooh, happy family," he observed cheerily, clicking away.

Gillian stared wordlessly at Loker, while Emily giggled.

When he was done, he gave them a small wave, and continued towards the stalls.

"Oi!"

Loker looked back at Cal innocently.

"Send me a copy, will you?" Cal grinned.

Loker smiled widely. "Sure thing, boss!"

Cal had no reason to be angry or offended by Loker's stunt and radical honesty. In fact, he was so pleased he just might give him a bonus. Might. He liked the fact that Loker saw them as a "happy family." He glanced at Emily. Good. She looked more amused than offended. He looked at Gillian. Even better. She was blushing. He knew Loker's comment affected her the same way it did him.

Loker's "happy family" comment threw Gillian back to reality. Suddenly, she became aware of how things had easily slipped back to the way they were before. Here she was laughing and joking with Cal and Emily. Her body was snuggled against Cal's like it belonged there. For some reason, she felt guilty for taking pleasure in their company and being part of their family when she didn't really have the right. Considering her feelings for Cal, she'd thought that distancing herself from him for a while was the way to go, at least until she had her emotions under control. The influx of clients and the great workload that came with it had given her the cover she needed to do that. But what had she done just now? Clearly, she had little power in resisting Cal.

"So, how about dinner tonight?" Cal asked her.

Thank God she had a legitimate excuse. She didn't want to lie and have him see through it. "I can't, Cal. I'll be working overtime," she told him regretfully.

"Again? Foster, you've been working overtime since Monday!"

"I still have to prepare for tomorrow's presentation with Loker at the DC police headquarters," she reasoned. "We can't afford to slow down right down. You know as well as I do that we need all the work we can get."

Cal sighed heavily. He stroked his hand through her hair. "Just take it easy, love. I've barely seen you the past several days. You're working too hard."

"That's what I told her, Dad," Emily said. "That's why we really have to go to dinner tonight!"

Gillian squeezed Emily's hand. "There'll be another time."

Cal caught her eyes. "We're holding you to that." His hand settled at her nape. "You're looking pale. You sure you're okay?"

Gillian placed her hand on his chest. "I'm fine, Cal. Don't worry."

But she wasn't.

Not finding Gillian in her office at nine the next morning filled Cal with foreboding. She always arrived before him. He went to the reception area.

"Has Foster come in yet?" he asked Heidi.

Heidi shook her head. "She hasn't called either, Dr. Lightman."

Cal spied Loker who was on his way out. "Hey. Where's Foster? Don't you two have a presentation or something?"

"Yeah. She just called me. She's running late. She said she'd go straight to MPDC and just meet me there. I'm going there now."

"Good." He let out a relieved sigh. "Look out for her, will you?"

Loker gave him a bewildered look. "Of course."

However, Cal's relief was short lived. Two hours later, he received a panicked call from Loker.

"Lightman? Foster's just collapsed. We're on our way to the ER now. Lightman? You still there…?"


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: I'd like to give a special shout-out to Schnerb for educating me about the intricacies of the English, Scottish, and Welsh accents. :) To everyone else, thank you all for continuing to read my story! I'm grateful and honored. I appreciate all your comments. One of these days I'll get round to replying to them. There's just little time left for me between work and writing. So anyway, I hope you'll like this latest offering. :)

* * *

Chapter 6

The loud beating of his heart was all Cal could seem to hear as he entered the ER. Frantically, he scanned the area for any sign of Gillian or Loker. He had nearly dropped the phone earlier when Loker called him. Gillian had collapsed. The very thought of her in danger for whatever reason always filled him with dread. She had to be all right. She had to be. Fear choked his throat when he couldn't find them.

"_Gillian!"_

Several nurses and patients looked his way in surprise.

Loker's head popped out from behind the curtains at the end of the ward. "Lightman! Over here."

Cal rushed over to Loker and into the confines of the curtained off area. His chest seized at the sight of Gillian on the hospital bed, her eyes closed. He went to her side, and his hands automatically touched her face and hands.

"She's fine," Loker reassured him. "She's sleeping."

His anguished eyes sought Loker's. "What the hell happened?"

"She fainted. We were already wrapping up the presentation when she just stopped talking. A second later she passed out on the floor. Completely scared the hell out of me."

Cal gave him a grateful look. "Thanks for looking out for her."

"I remembered what you told me in the office this morning. How did you know something was going to happen to her?"

"I didn't."

"Gut feeling then. Wow, you two are really connected in a major way."

"We must be," Cal replied pensively. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor suspects it's fatigue and stress related, as according to Gillian her last meal was a snack yesterday afternoon and that she'd been getting only four hours of sleep on average the past several days. But we won't know for certain until her tests come back."

Cal let out a deep breath. For a moment, he looked down at Gillian's tired and pale face. He couldn't help but feel responsible for what happened to her. If he hadn't caused their financial problem then she wouldn't have been slaving away in the office. _I'm sorry, darling._ He moved away from the bed and started pacing back and forth. He noticed Gillian's bag on the side table. He began to rummage through it.

"What she needs is a vacation, you know." Loker suggested. "She's overworking herself."

Cal didn't seem to hear him.

"And she needs to have sex with you."

That made Cal look up.

Loker waved a pamphlet he'd picked up at the nurses' station earlier. "I've been reading up on fatigue prevention, and it says here 'Have sex with your spouse or partner.' That's aside from managing your stress and improving your diet. Since Foster no longer has a spouse then that leaves you, her partner. She'll recover much quickly."

Cal regarded him with unreadable eyes.

"I just thought I'd share that bit of information …" Loker's voice tapered off. He cleared his throat. "So what's the plan?"

Cal fished out two sets of keys from Gillian's bag. Pocketing the house keys, he tossed the car key to Loker.

"Gillian's car is still at MPDC, yeah?" When Loker nodded, Cal continued. "Get her car and head back to the office. Here's what you're going to do."

* * *

Gillian woke up to the sound of Cal's voice. He was speaking to someone on the phone. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was still in the hospital. She turned her head to find him on the other side of the bed, looking down on the floor. She reached out her hand to him and touched his arm.

Cal's head snapped up and met Gillian's soft, blue eyes. "I have to go, Em," he said on the phone. "Gillian's awake. I'll call you later. Yes, I'll let her know. Bye."

He clasped her hand and moved towards her. "Hey. Em says to get well soon." He looked her over. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." Indeed she felt much better now, probably because of the nap she had. There was none of the sluggishness she had felt when she woke up late this morning.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

Gillian shrugged. "I woke up late, feeling lethargic. Missed breakfast…just as I missed dinner last night. Rushed to the headquarters for the presentation. I was concluding the presentation when suddenly I felt lightheaded. Next thing I knew I was on my way to the hospital." She sighed. "First time I ever fainted in my life."

"You scared the hell out of Loker." He met her eyes. "And me."

"I'm sorry for worrying you guys," she said guiltily. In truth, she felt like a fraud for being rushed to the hospital for fainting. Her schedule had just been hectic lately, and in between she'd been spending time worrying about the company and thinking about Cal that food and rest had been farthest from her mind.

"You have nothing to apologize for. So, are you ready to go home?"

"I can go home?" Gillian sat up on the bed. "What did the doctor say?"

Cal stroked his hand through her mussed hair. "You were over-fatigued. Your tests are all normal, thank God, except for your low blood sugar level. Didn't think that would ever happen to you considering the sugar junkie that you are. You're under strict orders to rest, relax, eat proper meals, and avoid stress for the next several days."

Gillian bit her lip as a flash of anxiety crossed her face.

"What is it?"

She looked at him uncomfortably. "I had planned on working tomorrow…"

"Damn it, Gillian, on a Saturday?" he swore softly. "It's not worth it. Working yourself to death will not do you or the company any good." He shook her gently. "I don't want you sacrificing your health for work."

She looked at him and saw anger, frustration, and concern warring in his face. "I know. I know," she placed her hands on his chest, trying to pacify him. "Please, don't be angry. But I'm fine, Cal. I just need to eat and sleep for a few hours and then I'll be back on my feet."

His eyes became determined. "No. You're taking a leave of absence."

"What? But I can't just leave behind all my open cases."

"Yes, you can. I'm taking over them all so you need not worry about them." His tone allowed for no argument. "No work for you for the next five working days. I've had Loker file for a leave on your behalf. And by the way, I'm moving in to your spare bedroom until further notice."

Gillian could only stare at him, speechless.

* * *

The tension between them was so thick, Cal could cut it with a cake cutter, which he was sure Gillian had in her kitchen. The silence in the car didn't help alleviate it. After calling Loker up to thank him for helping in bringing her to the hospital, she had remained quiet. She was giving him the silent treatment, which was fine by him. He was doing this for her own good.

Gillian was fuming mad. She couldn't believe Cal's highhandedness. He had no right to order her around and take charge of her life. She wasn't even sick—she just needed rest. She could do that this weekend, but taking next week off was just too much. She glared at him. He glared back at her. They both looked away at the same time.

When Cal pulled up to her apartment, she got out of the car even before he killed the engine. She hurried up the concrete steps while searching her bag for her keys. She stopped midway to dig deeper—where were her keys? She didn't notice Cal overtake her. She looked up when she heard a key grate against a lock.

Cal swung her door open and swept an arm towards the doorway, bidding her to enter.

Gillian gasped angrily. "You took my house keys?"

"What did you expect?"

She moved past him and into her house. "And my car keys?"

"With Loker. Your car's back in the office."

She removed her coat with jerky movements, revealing her crumpled navy blue dress. She threw it on the couch, and put her hands at her waist. "So now I'm a prisoner in my own home?"

"Something like that for the meantime. Until you've rested and relaxed a bit-"

"How can I relax when you're taking over my life!"

He removed his jacket and threw it forcefully on top of her coat. "Because you insist on working when I told you not to!"

"You don't care at all about the company, do you? We're hardly at a stable position right now. I've been doing everything to take in as many clients as we can—"

"I do, and I appreciate all your efforts." He strode up to her, his eyes blazing. "But damn it, Gillian, I care about you more! I'm not going to stand here and do nothing when I know it's my fault that you fainted."

"What? Cal, I fainted because I didn't take better care of myself. It wasn't your fault that I didn't eat and get enough sleep."

"But if I hadn't jeopardized the company with my rash financial decision you wouldn't be working this hard now, would you?"

"But it was still my choice. _My_ decision, Cal. I'm doing this because I want to."

"You have to take a break—"

"I don't want to take a break."

"Bloody hell, Gillian! Why do you insist on being stubborn? The company is not worth killing yourself for!"

Her chest felt like it's going to burst. He didn't understand at all. "Yes it is because it's all I have, Cal!" Her voice broke. "Look at my life! My marriage is over. I lost my baby. I don't want to lose it too…"

Gillian's reply broke his heart. He didn't know that she felt like this, that she thought she didn't have anything else save for work. She'd lost everything that she valued the most in the past that she was afraid to lose the one thing that remained in her life. But work wasn't the only one that did.

He cupped her face in his hands, willing her to look into his eyes to see the truth. "Oh, Gillian, you're so wrong. You have _me_."

She wanted desperately to believe him. She gripped his wrists with her hands as tears ran unchecked from her eyes. "Do I, Cal?"

Emotion thickened his voice. "It pains me that you have to ask that. Always, love, always. I'm not going anywhere. Never doubt it."

His compelling eyes made the dam inside her break. Sobs wrenched from her throat. She leaned into his arms, weeping uncontrollably.

Cal gathered her trembling body protectively to his. The feeling of wanting to hide her away from the rest of the world and look after her overwhelmed him. He buried his mouth near her ear. "Let me take care of you, darling," he said fervently. "I want to take care of you. I _need_ to."

* * *

Dusk had fallen, basking the living room in semi-darkness, but the man and woman seated on the couch did not notice. They were only aware of each other.

Gillian nuzzled her face against Cal's shoulder, his shirt underneath her cheek soaked in her tears. Cal languidly stroked her back in comfort. Their bodies rested against each other like the weary warriors that they were after their emotional battle.

"I'm sorry for taking the decision out of your hands, love," Cal murmured.

"I didn't think I'd live to see the day that you'd apologize for being bossy," Gillian said softly.

"I just want to make sure you'll recover fast."

"You don't trust me to use my free time well?"

"No. I know you'd sneak in work."

She smiled at that. He knew her too well. "Cal, it's really not necessary for you to move in and babysit me."

"What, you don't want me here?"

She lightly slapped his chest. "When have I ever turned you down the use of my spare room? It practically has your name on it. But what about Emily?"

"We've already talked about it and-"

"She didn't mind?"

"Are you kidding? She loved the idea. She's staying over at Zoey's tonight and the rest of the weekend so I can stay with you."

"Are you really taking over all my cases?"

"Yes, and that's all I'm going to say about it." He gently tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "Gillian, I don't want you to think about work just yet. The purpose of this enforced leave is for you to rest, get better, and do whatever else you want besides work," he told her seriously. "I want you to get your strength back because trust me, when you get back to the office, there'll be a lot of work for you to deal with."

She reached up and laid her palm on his cheek. "Thank you, Cal."

"You've been taking care of me and the company for the longest time, love. Let me to take care of you for a change."

Her heart cried out in longing. She was so tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and she was powerless to deny what she'd been denying herself recently: Cal. She'd take him and be grateful for whatever he could give her. She'd be a fool to turn away his caring ways even if they're just in the name of friendship. "Okay," she whispered.

The look they shared was one of utter devotion and understanding.

It was shattered by Cal's rumbling stomach, causing Gillian to chuckle.

Cal smirked. "I guess that's my cue to make dinner."

She struggled to sit up. "No, I'll do it."

He held her face in his hands and smiled tenderly down at her. "No, darling. You're not allowed to do a single thing. This is my show. I'm going to _love_ taking care of you."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: This chapter turned out to be fluffier and longer than I intended. It was difficult to write as well. If you don't like fluff… well, you've been warned. :) I'm grateful to everyone who sent feedback. Your comments keep me inspired. Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 7

**Saturday**

Gillian could not remember waking up this late in years. It somehow felt decadent. Eyes still closed, she stretched on her bed, enjoying the warmth of her sheets. She searched her mind for today's schedule and came up with blank. She was supposed to do something today. Shop for groceries? Drop by the office? Office… Her eyes shot open. Suddenly, the memories of all that happened yesterday played like a film reel in her mind. She fainted. She was hospitalized. She argued with Cal about her enforced leave. He made dinner and then he stayed the night.

She sat up, listening intently for any sound of activity signaling Cal's presence in her house. When she heard nothing, she got up and went downstairs to investigate. There was a note propped up on her dining table.

_Darling,_

_Went out to get your car and run some errands. Don't bother with lunch. I'll bring back some takeout._

_Cal_

She took the note and posted it on her refrigerator door. Her finger had begun to trace "darling" on the paper when she caught herself and dropped her hand. She was not allowed to be sentimental at this point.

Over toast and coffee, Gillian contemplated about what she could do before Cal arrived. She wished she had her laptop with her. She knew it was either in her car or Loker had carried it up back to the office. Not used to having much free time, she reminded herself to come up with a schedule of activities for the next several days.

After a quick shower, she decided to bake some chocolate chip cookies. She had just closed the oven when something crashed on her front door.

"Oi!"

There was only one person in her life who ever used that expression.

She hurried to open her front door. Cal was leaning heavily on the doorframe, weighed down by various bags.

"What are all those?" she asked bewilderedly.

Cal grunted as he heaved himself inside. "My stuff. Some files. Food. My laptop. Your laptop."

"Oh, thank you!" Gillian couldn't hide her delight at the thought of having her laptop back.

"I figured you'd go crazy without it." He placed the laptop bags and folders on the coffee table. "No work-related stuff, you hear?"

Her jaw dropped. "Is that even possible?"

"I'll let you answer e-mails, but that's it," he admonished. He dumped a plastic bag full of books in her arms. "Because I'd rather you spend your time on those."

She got one book out of the bag and gasped. She checked the titles of the other books. "I can't believe you got me romance novels! How'd you know my favorite authors?"

He smirked and cocked his head towards her bookcase. "Looked them up." He raised the remaining plastic bags he held. "Got us Chinese and some ice cream."

Gillian set her books down and took the food. "You're spoiling me, but thank you."

"Not enough, love. Not enough."

* * *

They spent the afternoon in companionable silence.

Both were sprawled on the couch with their laptops open, his files and her books occupying the space between them. Cal had his headphones on while reviewing the various videos Loker had sent him. When Gillian finished answering all the e-mails, she tried to steal away one of the folders, but Cal slapped her hand. Miffed, she closed her laptop and got up. Cal bit back a smile.

Ten minutes later, a loaded tray was set down on the coffee table in front of him. Two mugs. A large pot of tea. A huge mound of chocolate chip cookies. He removed his headset and gaped at her.

"Now this is spoiling _me_," he exclaimed.

Gillian reclaimed her space on the couch and poured the tea. She smiled as she handed him his mug. "You deserve it."

He took a sip. "Shouldn't that be my line?"

She blew on her mug. "Caring goes both ways, Cal."

"You really are a good girl."

Gillian blinked at that and then looked down as she sipped her tea.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she mumbled. "You should try the cookies." She could feel his gaze piercing through her.

"You don't like that I called you a good girl?" he asked quietly. Instinctively, he knew he should tread softly on the issue.

"Let's not talk about this, Cal."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not important."

"If it is that then the more that it should be easy to talk about." He placed his mug back on the tray, and set aside his laptop. He moved closer to her. "What's wrong about being a good girl?"

Gillian finally met his eyes. Her lips curved in a sad smile. "Nothing. Let it go, Cal."

"Liar," he admonished fondly. He tilted his head in his classic "reading" pose. "You're caring, selfless, nice…"

In her head, the words "boring," "unexciting," and "not your type" superimposed themselves on those uttered by Cal.

"…gracious, organized, compassionate, generous… What's so wrong about these traits?"

She remained silent.

"Whatever your reasons are for not wanting to be called a good girl, they are not as good as my reasons for being grateful and proud that you are one." He gently gripped her arms. "You barely knew me when we met at the Pentagon but you didn't hesitate to save me and my family. That's the kind of person of you are—selfless and caring—and I admire, respect, and appreciate that about you. But all the manipulating we've done and the stunts we've pulled since we formed the company prove that you can be, much to my delighted surprise, rather devious and wicked when you have to. You're an exciting mix of the good and the bad, love." He moved his face closer to hers. "I wouldn't have you any other way," he whispered.

She looked down at her mug and nodded.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead.

It wasn't all that she wanted to hear, but it was good enough.

* * *

Cal had already set the table for two and had poured the Merlot. He was just waiting for Gillian to dish up.

Gillian, who was wearing a pink gingham apron edged in lace, placed the salad and garlic bread at the center of the table. When she opened the oven, the unmistakable aroma of lasagna filled the kitchen, making his mouth water. He sniffed the air and rubbed his palms together in anticipation.

"That smells so good," he breathed.

She placed the Pyrex dish of lasagna in front of him and cut and served him a slice, which he dug into immediately.

"Mmm, and it tastes better than it smells."

She smirked as she removed her apron and sat down. "Aren't you glad I insisted on cooking tonight?"

"Oh yes," he replied around a forkful of lasagna. "This is way better than the pizza I had planned on ordering."

Good food and good conversation with a good woman. This is the life, Cal thought afterwards. Replete, he leaned back against his chair and surveyed the empty dishes before him. "I can't believe we ate everything."

Gillian smiled. "Compliments to the chef?"

"Oh, definitely. You cook like a dream, woman."

A blush stained her cheeks. "Care for some ice cream?"

He shook his head. "I've no more room to put it, love," he said as he patted his stomach.

She got up. "Great. I won't have to share then."

From his seat, he watched her move about her kitchen with hooded eyes. She was graceful and in her element here. Even dressed down and with her hair up in a messy pony tail, she was gorgeous. Her plain white tee and gray yoga pants accentuated her pleasing shape, especially her lush hips which he'd always admired and checked out against his better judgment. His hands twitched, as if itching to hold and mold them. Instinctively, he knew he'd fit perfectly in their cradle. That image made blood rush to his groin. His hunger for food momentarily satiated, a different kind of hunger built up inside him: hunger for her. His breath caught as his body reacted, growing hard and thickening.

He watched her sit down again with a spoon and her pint of ice cream. She ate with pleasure but with no artifice. He'd had women before tease him deliberately with the way they'd eat or drink to make him want them. Gillian didn't need to do that. She'd only have to _be_ and he'd already want her. Like right now.

He shifted in his seat.

"Stomach ache?" she asked, concern for him making her brow furrow.

_Ache is further down my stomach, darling. _"No. I'm just so full I feel like I can't move."

She gave him an impish grin that really shouldn't look adorable on a grown woman like her but it did.

After he'd done the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, they curled up on the opposite ends of the couch: Cal working on his laptop and Gillian engrossed in her novel. They didn't speak, but the silence wasn't awkward. Despite the fact that he was working on a Saturday night, he felt strangely calm and content. Being with Gillian seemed to have that effect on him.

An hour later, Gillian put her book down, her eyelids heavy. Her body still needed to catch up on sleep.

"I'm going to bed now," she told him on a yawn.

He looked up from his laptop to her drowsy face "All right."

Without thinking about it, Gillian leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Don't stay up too long," she murmured.

Automatically, he kissed her forehead. "I won't. Good night, darling."

"Good night."

Long after she had gone upstairs, Cal just smiled wonderingly at himself, thinking about the rightness of them kissing each other good night and how he wouldn't mind ending the rest of his nights like this.

**Sunday**

Gillian was the first to wake up. She was frying bacon and eggs when she heard Cal come down the stairs talking to someone on the phone. She turned from the stove when she heard him enter the kitchen.

Their eyes met in greeting. He leaned against the refrigerator door as he continued his conversation. The smile she gave him faltered a bit as she felt an intense fluttering in her stomach at the sight of him. He was barefoot in jeans and a white wife beater. The tattoos on his right arm stood out against his pale skin. She'd always found them sexy. She'd seen them many times before of course but Cal had not been wearing a wife beater during those times and he definitely wasn't barefoot _in_ her kitchen. He looked…edible. Good Lord, nobody had the right to look like that so early in the morning. To cover up her response, she grabbed her mug from the counter and gulped her coffee. She set it down again and focused her attention to cooking breakfast.

"… of course she wouldn't mind. She'd love for you to be here," Cal argued over the phone. He moved away from the refrigerator and stood beside Gillian by the stove. "Here, you talk to her. Yes, she's awake." He handed Gillian the phone.

Gillian gave him a questioning glance.

"It's Em, love."

She turned off the fire and put the phone to her ear. "Hey, Emily."

Cal picked up her mug and, as usual, drank from the side of the rim where she drank. He watched her circle the dining table as she talked to his daughter. He loved that the two most important women in his life got along well.

Gillian stopped in front of Cal. "Okay, will tell him that. See you in a bit. Bye!" She thrust his phone into his hand. "Emily says to pick her up by ten."

"Will do," he said, bringing the mug to his mouth.

She finally noticed that he was drinking her coffee. She swiped her mug from him. "Why do you always drink my coffee? Not that I mind, but…"

He grinned. "Let's just say it's a quirk."

She frowned at him, unconvinced.

"Emily has school tomorrow so I'm going to have to go back home tonight."

"Of course. You didn't have to stay with me, you know."

"Well, you also know that I don't like taking chances when it comes to you."

"I know," she said gently. "But I'll be fine, Cal."

"So Emily coming over today is okay with you? I just assumed that you wouldn't mind."

"Well, you assumed correctly." She went to the refrigerator and opened it. After checking its contents, she said excitedly, "I already know what to serve for lunch."

Cal came over to her. "Let's just order out. I don't want you getting tired."

"Cal, this won't stress me out. Cooking for one is boring and lonely. Cooking for three—now that's fun in my book."

"You are quite the domestic goddess, aren't you?"

"It's not fun being one if you're alone."

"Good thing the Lightmans are here to keep you company then."

She smiled. "Oh, yes."

* * *

When Emily arrived, she immediately engulfed Gillian in a tight hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Gillian."

Surprised by Emily's show of affection, Gillian gingerly put her arms around Emily. "Thanks, Emily."

Moving back, Emily turned around in a slow circle as she surveyed Gillian's living room. "I like your home—it's so you! It's neat but still comfy and cozy." She turned back to Gillian and held her at arm's length. "And you—look at you! You're so pretty in that white dress. I don't think I've ever seen you looking so casual…" She looked pointedly at Gillian's bare feet. "…and barefoot!"

Gillian threw Cal a befuddled glance over Emily's head.

Cal, who was standing by the front door, just shrugged and smiled amusedly at both Gillian and Emily. He honestly didn't know what brought about his daughter's sudden fascination with Gillian. Emily was sincere though in her compliments, that much he could tell. He had to agree with her that indeed Gillian looked pretty in her sleeveless dress. With no makeup on, she looked younger, especially with the scattering of freckles on her cheeks and shoulders visible. After two nights of good sleep, she also looked more relaxed and happy. He'd like to think he contributed to her current state of being.

Lunch was a relaxed and drawn-out affair. Cal masterfully carved the roast chicken Gillian had prepared. The conversation was dominated by the father-daughter tandem, but Gillian didn't mind at all. She was content just hearing them talk and laugh and just having them in her kitchen. Cooking for them fulfilled some basic part of her nature, and for the moment that part of her was happy and satisfied.

They spent the afternoon watching a chick flick in Gillian's living room. Cal, seated on the couch in between Gillian and Emily, humored them by attempting to watch but ended up dozing off and snoring. Despite Gillian's laughter and Emily's squees and running commentary about the plot, he did not wake. Emily feasted on the last of Gillian's chocolate chip cookies. She asked Gillian if she could come by one day so she could teach her how to make them. Gillian readily agreed.

When the credits finally rolled, Emily turned off the TV and the DVD. She settled back against the couch and laid her head on her father's shoulder. She smiled at Gillian. "I like this—us spending time together. It's like having a complete family again."

Gillian tamped down the emotion that surged in her chest at Emily's words. She wisely remained quiet.

"Sunday lunch, watching a movie, just hanging out at home with you and Dad…" Emily mused. "Has Dad taken good care of you?"

"Yes, he has," Gillian replied with a smile. "He's been good company."

Emily nodded approvingly. "Good. Families always take care of their own."

Gillian couldn't help the look of surprise that crossed her face.

"Well, you _are_ part of our family, Gillian," Emily said emphatically.

Cal opened his eyes at that moment and directed them at Gillian. He pulled her closer to his side with his left arm. "Yes, love. You always have been and always will be," he said, his voice deep and gruff from sleep. "Whether you like it or not."

This time, Gillian didn't bother to stop her emotions from overwhelming her. Eyes wet with joyful tears, she smiled shakily at Emily and then at Cal. "I do like," she whispered. "Thank you."

* * *

"Like I said, you can answer e-mails but that's it," Cal told Gillian sternly. "No visiting or calling the office for the whole week. Understand?"

Gillian bit her inner cheek, trying to control her smile. She gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

"Quite the dictator, isn't he?" Emily observed from behind Cal.

"I imagine he's like this at home?"

"Oh, much worse."

"Oi!" Cal looked exasperatedly at both women. He pointed his hand at Gillian. "I'm doing this for your own good."

"He always tells me that, too," Emily said sotto voce.

Seeing that Cal was about to blow up, Gillian launched herself at him and embraced him as tightly as she could. "I know, I understand," she murmured against his shoulder. She felt his anger leave him as he returned her embrace with equal fervor. "Thank you, Cal. For everything. Thank you."

"Anything for you, love," he murmured back. "Anything." He caressed her back soothingly. Reluctantly, he let her go even though he loathed to. She felt so good in his arms. "Well, we have to go."

Gillian stepped back. "Okay."

Emily stepped forward and gave her a hug. "Thanks, Gillian. I had a great time today."

"Me, too, sweetheart."

"Let's do this again, okay?"

"Of course."

Cal opened the front door, and Emily immediately stepped out.

Gillian joined him at the doorway. They stared at each other for a moment. He kissed her cheek in farewell.

On the way to the car, Emily noticed the thoughtful look on her father's face. "Dad, are you and Gillian like… together?"

Cal stopped in his tracks. "Why do you say that?"

"You act like it."

"Well, we're not."

"But—"

"Not yet."

Emily smiled at the implications of her Dad's reply. "Good. Don't screw it up, Dad. I mean it. I don't want you to hurt Gillian."

"Trust me, love. That's the last thing I want to do to her."

* * *

Back inside, Gillian looked around her empty living room. She felt a pang of loneliness as she realized she would be alone again.

**Monday**

Gillian tried hard not to think about what was happening in the office as she tackled her domestic duties. To cap off her morning, she rearranged the books in her bookcase to fit in those Cal had just given her.

At around three in the afternoon, her phone rang.

"Hey! Are you so busy that you need me to come to work tomorrow?" Gillian asked in greeting.

"In your dreams," Cal scoffed on the other line.

She made sure he heard the disappointment in her voice. "Oh. So why did you call?"

"I just want to know—what's for dinner tonight?"

"You're coming over for dinner?"

"Yep. I wouldn't want you to die of boredom. Besides, I'm sure you'd be delighted to hear about this hilariously fucked up case that just came in. Oh, and um, could you bake me some of those cookies again?"

**Tuesday**

Gillian was surprised to see Torres' number on her caller ID.

"Wow, Cal actually allowed you to call me?"

Torres grimaced. "He doesn't know," she whispered. "Do you have a minute? I just need to run this by you really quick."

"You know, I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I actually have all day. So, yeah, go ahead."

Torres chuckled as she opened the file. "Oh no, wait. Wrong file. Argh. Let me get it first. Here, talk to Loker for a while. He's been dying to ask you something."

"Foster?"

"Yes, Loker."

"What did you put in those cookies you baked for Lightman? I'd like to know if I could use it to spike his coffee or his scotch."

Gillian laughed. "What do you mean? And what's wrong with Cal?"

"That's just it—nothing's wrong with him. He was an absolute bear yesterday because, you know, you weren't here and there were tons of work to do. But today's he's just been so strangely _pleasant_-it's disconcerting! You should see the looks the people around here are giving him. I figured it must be because of the cookies he's been munching since this morning. He was willing enough to share the information that you made them but not the cookies. We'd all like to keep him in that mood so come on, out with it. What's the secret ingredient?"

Gillian shook her head in amusement. "Nothing! They're just plain chocolate chip cookies."

"Gah. Look, just continue to ply him with cookies until you get back, all right? For all our sakes. Here's Torres."

Torres held the phone to her ear. "Hey, Foster."

"Has Cal been really been acting strangely today?"

"Oh, yes. Complete turnaround from yesterday. So here's what I need to consult you about …"

They've been discussing for about five minutes when Torres let out a panicked gasp. "Oh God, Lightman's here. Gotta go. Thanks for—"

"Is that Foster on the phone, Torres?" Cal's voice was heard booming across the line, making both women cringe at the angry outburst that would sure follow.

Torres could only look fearfully at Cal.

He gave her a maddening grin. "Ask her what's for dinner tonight, will you?"

**Wednesday**

_Waiting for you on a bench by the food stalls. I have a debt to pay. _

Cal read Gillian's text message again as he walked towards the food stalls. Debt? What the hell was she talking about?

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed as soon as he spotted her on the bench. "Didn't I tell you not to come to the office?"

Gillian rolled her eyes at him. "_Here_ is not the office." She patted the space beside her with a beckoning smile. "Come here. Sit."

He took his seat but regarded her warily.

With a flourish, she handed him a small orange slushie.

"Ah, so this is the payment you were talking about."

"I always pay my debts," she told him as she sipped from her own giant cup. "I only got you a small one because I wasn't sure you'd like it."

Cal dutifully sipped from the straw, his face unreadable. "So, where are you off to now?"

"I'm going to the grocery." She looked pointedly at him. "I need to stock up on food because my dinner guest is very demanding."

"A dinner guest! Why, Foster, if I'd know you'd only be entertaining some bloke during your leave I'd have dragged you to work immediately." He slurped noisily. "So what's his name? You know I'm the jealous type."

Her eyebrows lifted in amused disbelief.

"You know, I absolutely hate it when you don't take my being the jealous type seriously." He pointed his hand and narrowed his eyes at her. "One of these days you're going to see just how much." He stuck the straw in his mouth.

"Right, sure," she said, humoring him. "So, do you like it?" She gestured to his drink with her hand.

Cal stared into his orange slushie and sipped noisily. When he raised his head, he licked his lips and thrust the cup back into her hand. "Nah."

Gillian tilted the cup and found it empty. "O-kaaay." She gathered her bag and got up. "Well, snack time is over. You can go back to work now." She gave him a little wave before walking away.

"Oi!"

Gillian stopped.

"What's for dinner tonight, darling?" he called out.

**Thursday**

"So how'd you learn how to bake?" Emily asked as she carefully dropped little balls of dough on a cookie sheet.

Gillian was washing her hands at the sink. "My grandmother taught me when I was about twelve or thirteen. I think I got my sweet tooth from her because none of my parents really liked sweets."

"Dad can cook—he's the one who taught me how—but he doesn't do desserts. I can't ask my Mom to teach me 'cause she's not really the domestic type." Emily dropped the last ball of dough on the cookie sheet. "There. All done!" She looked expectantly at Gillian. "What's next?"

Gillian smiled at her. "We put it in the oven."

"For how long?"

"Eight to ten minutes."

"That fast!" Emily watched Gillian open the oven and slide the cookie sheet in. "You know Dad's crazy about you—_your_ cookies, right?" She bit her lip, hoping Gillian didn't notice her slip. "I mean he wouldn't even share them with me!"

She didn't, as she was busy closing the oven. "Well, now you can take your revenge because these are all for you."

Emily beamed at her. Then she remembered something. "Oh, yeah, before I forget, do you have plans for tomorrow night?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

"You think we can finally go to that restaurant that serves that chocolate fudge cheesecake?"

Gillian clasped her hands together. "Ooh, I'd like that."

Emily whipped out her cell phone from her pocket. "I'll go ask Dad," she said excitedly. She hit speed dial one. "Hey, Dad! Are you free tomorrow night? You are? Great! How about you take me and Gillian out to dinner? Yes, to the one that serves the to-die-for cheesecake. Yay! Okay. Uh-huh. What? Oh, wait, hang on…" She met Gillian's eyes. "Dad wants to know what's for dinner tonight."

**Friday**

Gillian and Emily oohed and aahed at the chocolate fudge cheesecake when it finally arrived. Cal just rolled his eyes at them.

"I don't get it. What is it about women and dessert?" he groused.

Gillian didn't pay him any mind. She forked some cheesecake into her mouth and moaned, her eyes closing in bliss.

Cal was mesmerized by the sight. Her pleasure was enthralling.

Emily's attention was focused on her own slice. "I guess it's just like asking 'what is it about men and cars?'" She smacked her lips after taking a bite. "Mmm, it's yummy, Dad. You should try it."

Gillian cut a bit of cheesecake and raised her fork to Cal's mouth. "Come on, open up," she urged him gently.

Cal parted his lips and accepted her offering. He chewed while watching her cut another piece for herself and eat it.

"Good, huh?" she said with a soft smile.

A smudge of cheesecake remained on the corner of her mouth. He wiped it off with his thumb, his touch lingering on her lower lip.

"Oh. Thanks." She didn't wait for his reply but turned back to her dessert.

He lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked off the taste of the cheesecake… and hers. "Absolutely."

**Monday**

Cal furtively glanced at his watch. She was five minutes late. Their clients, an all-male group of senior investment bankers, were starting to get restless. This was an elaborate case, and their clients had specifically requested his and Gillian's expertise for a handsome fee. He gripped the hand rests of his chair to stop himself from fidgeting. Where the hell was Gillian?

Then he saw her from the corner of his eye through the glass walls of the conference room. She was wearing a new dress to commemorate her first day at work after her leave. He stood up just as she swept in, her professional smile in place. Their eyes met and an unexplainable sense of calm filled him. The burden he'd been carrying for the past week was suddenly lifted. The other men in the room settled down as if they too were calmed by her presence.

Gillian's smile widened as she addressed her audience. "Good morning, gentlemen. I apologize for being late…"

Gillian's finally here, Cal thought. Everything was going to be all right.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me. I don't have a beta so all mistakes are mine. English is not my first language.

Author's Notes: It's been more than two months since the last update—so sorry about that. :( Majority of this chapter was already written a few weeks after my last update, but then work butted its head in and demanded all of my attention (still does). Unfortunately, I'm not one those people who can concentrate on two mental tasks at the same time. Anyway, it's been so long you may have to start reading at the beginning again just to familiarize yourself with the story. :P Still a lot of fluff in this chapter. This chapter was tough to write, especially the ending. Can't promise to update soon, but I will try my best. Thank you to everyone still following the story. Hope you enjoy this one. :)

* * *

Chapter 8

Cal gingerly wiped at his bloody nose and winced. God, his face was a mess. He hoped Gillian wasn't in the office because she'd be livid if she saw him like this.

He pushed the door open and ignored the startled looks his people threw his way. He gave them all a lopsided grin and escaped to his office—where Gillian was placing a stack of files on his desk. He stopped in his tracks just as she turned around. He saw her eyes widen in shock.

"What in the world happened to you?"

Cal shrugged his shoulders restlessly. "It's not as bad as it looks," he told her reassuringly. When Gillian moved to approach him, he evaded her and went left towards his study.

But Gillian was hard on his heels. Cal came to a standstill when there was nowhere for him to go. She nearly bumped into him when he suddenly turned to face her.

Gillian looked him over, zeroing in on his bruised cheek, bloody nose, cut lip, and the slightly bloodied front of his white shirt. This certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen him roughed up, but she couldn't help but worry every time. With a deep sigh, she went to his private bathroom. She held a wet wash cloth when she came back out.

He held up his hands to ward her off. "It's nothing!"

She pressed a finger on his bruised cheek. Hard.

"Ow!"

"Nothing, huh?" Narrowing her eyes, she started dabbing at the dried blood along his philtrum. "Now tell me what happened."

Cal heaved a sigh. "Tom Norton and I sort of got into a scuffle."

Gillian leaned back in surprise. "Tom Norton? Head of Optima Security Group? _Our new_ _client_?"

Cal pulled a face. "Yeah, well, not anymore." Gillian opened her mouth but Cal rushed on before she could speak. "We had a difference of opinion. I withdrew the contract. No more case. End of story."

Gillian set the wash cloth aside and began to slip off his jacket. "Difference of opinion? That has never compelled you to slug anyone before or withdraw a contract."

"There's always a first time for everything, love." He held his breath when he felt her hands on his chest. Her fingers began to undo the buttons of his blood-stained shirt. "And it was very satisfying," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She shook her head in disapproval. "You know that I highly object to you endangering yourself in any way, but I also know that you wouldn't hit anyone unless it was warranted."

"You're damn right it was warranted."

"Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

With hooded eyes, Cal watched her untuck his shirt from his pants and completely take it off. Her movements were automatic, almost impersonal. But in his mind's eye, he saw her doing this to him—taking care of him and undressing him—under different, more intimate circumstances. Her hands would be warm and lingering on his chest, caressing his skin until his body quivered. Lost in his fantasy, he didn't notice her walk over to his small closet where he kept his go bag and change of clothes and pulled out a clean shirt. He was unresponsive when Gillian stood behind him and held out his shirt.

"Earth to Cal."

Focusing back on the present, Cal shook his head slightly to clear his head. "What? Oh, right. No, I'm not going to tell you. It's personal," he said as he shrugged into his clothes. He definitely wasn't going to tell Gillian that Norton had asked him upfront if he was banging her because if he wasn't, Tom would make sure he would be by the time the case was over. Tom had made it very clear that he was interested in Gillian only to get her to bed. Cal remembered the first time he and Gillian met Norton two weeks ago. Norton had looked at her like she was the main meal. Gillian always had that effect on men, although she was oblivious to it.

Gillian, suspicious now, faced him squarely. "Did you have any past dealings with Norton that I should know about?"

"Norton and I don't have a past. Just trust me on this one, Gillian, okay? He's a bastard. We don't need him as a client."

Gillian stared at him, unwilling to let the issue go. "All right. I respect your decision, Cal. However, just know that with Norton's money we could've funded that new research Loker was proposing."

"There'll be other clients."

She sighed. "Fine."

Cal took her hands and placed them on his chest near the top button of his shirt.

Gillian took the hint and began to button him up.

"I have three words for you."

"You're changing the subject."

"You'll like our new topic of conversation, I promise."

"Okay, I'll bite. What?"

A smug smile split his face. "You'll definitely bite, love. Molten chocolate cake."

Gillian looked up after she'd dealt with the last button. Her eyes became hazy and her mouth instantly watered at the thought of the pudding-like center oozing from moist chocolate cake.

Cal chuckled at her predictable reaction. "Chef Lorenzo's, 7 PM this Friday. What do you say?" It was shameless of him, but he'd been luring her with dessert so they'd go out more often with fewer chances of her refusing.

Her face fell. "We can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"It's the annual fundraising gala sponsored by the mayor, remember?"

"Oh, bugger. Do we really have to go?"

"We've talked about this, Cal. Yes, we're attending because it's going to be a good opportunity for us to make the rounds. The gala will be filled with potential clients."

"Oh, right. Damn, I hate socializing with the who's who."

"I don't like it either, but as the main representatives of the Lightman Group…"

"I know, I know. Just don't expect me to go around and be all…friendly."

Gillian laughed at the thought of Cal as a social butterfly. "Of course not. I do, however, expect you to behave."

He gave her a devilish grin. "Behave. Not in my vocabulary, love."

* * *

As always, Cal didn't enjoy formal events. And as always, he was seated at a corner where he could watch everyone but where he could not be seen. So far, the only thing that redeemed the night for him was witnessing Gillian's childish delight at seeing the chocolate fondue fountain at the dessert table. He had watched her indulgently as she helped herself with the various cut-up fruits and flowing Belgian chocolate.

Sipping his champagne, he scanned the crowd, noting the people he wanted to avoid. Then, like a magnet, his gaze fastened on the one person he did not want to avoid ever.

She looked beautiful in burgundy. The dress was simple but elegantly cut. Her hair was in her usual style, which means that she didn't style it at all. There was no need. Across the dance floor to the other side of the ballroom, she was holding court with a group of elderly gentlemen who seemed to be hanging on to her every word. Although she hated it, public relations was more her thing than his. He couldn't tolerate most people from the upper echelon, which was really bad for business.

He caught her eye and raised his champagne glass to her. The look she gave him was one of desperation. He smirked as he got up from his chair. His damsel in distress needed to be rescued. Confidently, like a knight in shining armor, he strode to where she was cornered. The look of relief on her face was priceless.

"Gentlemen," Cal intoned, intent on showing Gillian he was being on his best behavior. "I apologize, but I have to whisk this lady away for a dance." Amidst the gentlemen's surprised exclamations and Gillian's apologetic murmurings, Cal smoothly maneuvered her away from the group and onto the dance floor.

Gillian clung to him like a lifeline. "Oh, God, thank you, Cal. I couldn't seem to extricate myself from the conservation. Those men were so persistent."

"Hitting on you, were they?" he teased as he moved them to the center. He pulled her unresisting body close to his. One of his hands held her around her waist, and the other held her hand in the classic dancing position.

"Yes." Gillian shuddered at the idea.

"You can't really fault them, love." His smile was genuine. "You're breathtaking tonight."

Gillian dropped her eyes to his chest.

"Oi, none of that. I still don't understand why you have trouble accepting compliments."

She kept her eyes down. "Just those from you," she muttered.

"Why?"

"Just not used to it, I guess."

"Well, get used to it now. I'll be throwing more your way."

She gave him a shy smile that emphasized her lone dimple. She moved her free hand from its perch on his shoulder to his chest, tweaking his bow tie and smoothing his black dinner jacket. "Well, I'm not the only one who deserves a compliment. You really look dashing tonight. And judging by all the ladies checking you out, they quite agree as well."

Since they arrived an hour and a half ago, she'd seen several women throw admiring looks in Cal's direction despite the faint bruises on his face. Cal in a tuxedo was a sight to behold. He'd never looked more remote, striking, and therefore more irresistible. There were certainly men more handsome, younger, and taller than him at the party tonight, but none could exude that air of indifference that Cal alone could pull off. Indeed, his seeming disinterest in everyone and everything around him made him more appealing.

"Oh yeah?" Cal made a show of preening and looking around him, making Gillian laugh. He looked back at her with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided grin. "I don't care what they think about me. Yours is the only opinion that matters in my book, love. So thank you."

And with that plus the charming expression on his face, emotion swelled inside her chest, threatening to burst out of her. Her breath caught at the intensity of it. God, how she loved this man. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go. The seeming impossibility of her thoughts had her crashing down to earth. A sad smile curved her lips as she stared at her hand that was stroking his chest gently.

Cal noted the change in her: the sad smile and her sudden stillness. He wondered if he was finally getting to her. Never in his life had he taken this long to woo a woman. He considered his situation with her to be delicate and handled with care. The friendship that bonded them tightly could make or break the relationship he wanted with her so badly. He knew Gillian well enough to know that she'd been hiding her feelings for him so she would not upset the status quo between them. Maybe it was time to rock the boat a little bit.

He pulled her closer until the side of his face was almost nuzzling hers. "Now that we're done with the mutual admiration stuff, let's focus on dancing, shall we? It's been a while since I've done this."

Glad to have a distraction from her thoughts, Gillian chuckled. "Could've fooled me. You move like you've had practice recently."

From the corner of his eye, Cal saw a young man around Loker's age straighten his dinner jacket as he walked up to them with the clear intention of cutting in. He felt a wave of possessiveness overtake him. Cal pinned the guy with a hard glare. _You can't have her._ The young man's smile froze when Cal expertly spun Gillian to the other side of the dance floor, where they settled down to a languid rhythm.

Entranced by the music, Cal and Gillian regarded each other with wonder, both noting how their bodies fit and moved perfectly. Gillian couldn't help the giddy laugh that bubbled out of her.

Cal grinned. "Enjoying yourself, are you, love?"

"Very much. This is actually fun."

"Why don't we add dancing to our activity list then?"

"We have an activity list? What's in it?"

"Well, there's only two so far—dessert and dancing."

Bemused, Gillian asked, "Why do we even need an activity list?"

"What—don't you like us doing stuff together?"

Gillian noted the genuine hurt in his voice and expression. "Oh, I do. I just mean…don't you have better things to do with your time…you know, like, with a woman?"

He looked at her as if she were crazy. "I am doing better things with my time with a woman."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean. Look, I don't mean to intervene in your personal life—"

"Please do," he butted in enthusiastically.

"—but I have to ask. Did you have a falling out with Clara?"

"Clara? What does she have to do—no!"

"Because I've noticed you haven't been going out much…at all… lately, and you've been spending a lot of time with me. Knowing that I'm always your last resort when you can't find a date—"

"You are not that!" he protested vehemently.

"Calm down," she said. "You know it's true. As your friend and partner, I kind of slipped into that role automatically. But I don't mind being that."

Cal snorted.

"Really, I don't. I like the free food and the company," she said tongue-in-cheek.

"Seriously, Gillian, I don't like it that you consider yourself my last resort. When I'm with you it's because I want to and not because I'm forced to do so." He looked right into her eyes. "Do you understand? You're not the only remaining or unwanted option." _You are the only option._

"All right," she whispered. He was serious, she could clearly see that. Her foolish heart swelled at his sentiment. They had been spending _a lot_ of time lately, but she had been rational enough not to read anything into it. However, it didn't stop her from cherishing each moment she spent with Cal.

"Good."

Beyond Gillian's shoulder, Cal spotted another man, this time around his age, approaching them. "What does a guy have to do around here to dance with you a little longer?" he muttered under his breath as he turned them away from the advancing man. They danced their way through the other dancing couples until they were on the other side.

"Cal, what are you doing?"

"Just moving to a better spot, love."

They bumped hard into a couple when Cal moved them to the edge of the dance floor.

"Oh, we're so sorry," Gillian apologized.

The woman, who was slightly older than Gillian, turned in her partner's arms to smile at them. "It's all right."

Gillian couldn't help but stare at the woman's large protruding stomach. She was probably seventh months along now. _If she could still get pregnant at her age, why couldn't I have before? Could I still?_ The questions rang loudly in her head despite the background music. She watched with thoughtful eyes as the couple danced away.

"You could adopt again, you know. Or even have one naturally. It's not yet too late," Cal told her quietly. It didn't take an expert in facial expressions to know how Gillian was affected by the pregnant older woman.

Gillian looked at him pensively. "You know, I still don't understand why I Alec and I weren't able to conceive. I mean, we were both healthy."

"So you resorted to adoption."

"Yes, but even that didn't work out."

"Have you ever considered that maybe you just weren't meant to have a child with Alec?"

"That maybe it was fate's way of telling me that Alec and I would eventually go our separate ways so there was no sense in having a child come out of our union? Yes, the thought crossed my mind," Gillian sighed. "But having a child now seems impossible considering my present circumstances."

"You mean because you're not married anymore?"

"Yes. I just want my child to be born into a family with parents who love each other. I guess I'm just old-fashioned that way."

"I have no doubt that you'll make a very good mother."

"Thanks, Cal," she said. "I hope, if I will be blessed to become one, to be as cool a parent as you."

"Heh, thank you very much."

"Although not as paranoid, of course."

"Hey!"

"Why didn't you and Zoey have other children?" she asked.

"She didn't want more children. I respected her decision."

"Oh. But you wanted more?"

"Of course."

"Given the chance, would you like to become a father again?"

The clear vision of him getting Gillian round with his child obliterated all other thoughts inside his head. It took him a moment before he could speak. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes when he asked, "Is that a proposition?"

Gillian realized too late the implication of her innocent question. "What? No, no! It was just a question. I wasn't trying to—"

"May I cut in?" Reynolds' deep voice interrupted him.

Cal pressed his lips together to stop himself from swearing. His reply came out downright rude. "What are you doing here?"

Reynolds didn't back down. "Hey, don't think you're the only one who gets to attend these kinds of events." He looked pointedly at Cal, whose arms still held Gillian. "Come on, man. Stop hogging her. It's just a dance."

Unwillingly, Cal dropped his hands. "Fine." He pointed his hand at him. "Don't let anybody else cut in."

Gillian was still too embarrassed to speak. Did it really sound like she was propositioning Cal?

"I won't." Reynolds smoothly placed himself in between Cal and Gillian. He smiled down at Gillian and held out his arms to her.

She returned his smile shakily as she placed her arms on his shoulders. "Hi, Ben."

"Gillian. You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you." Composing herself, she drew a deep breath.

Reynolds turned to Cal. "Now go charm the other ladies."

Cal twisted his mouth and gave him a withering glance before turning away reluctantly.

Reynolds chuckled when Cal was gone. "I didn't think I'd be able to pry him away from you. Is there something going on between the two of you that I should know about?"

After Torres' assumption before, Gillian wasn't surprised anymore by Reynolds' question. She shook her head exasperatedly. "No."

Reynolds eyed her doubtfully. "Huh. Really."

"You know a little bit of our history, Ben. You know Cal and I have always been close."

"Yeah, I know." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I may not know your science, but I do have my instincts. And they're telling me that something's changed. I can sense it."

"Okay. So what do you think has changed?" she asked, challenging him.

"He's more possessive of you. More protective. And it's not because of the she's-my-partner-of-course-I'm-protective-of-her crap. I'm not getting that vibe. He's more _into_ you. You know what I mean?"

Gillian listened to what Reynolds was saying and tried to see things objectively from his point of view. More protective? A definite yes. She'd noticed that ever since her fainting episode. There had been no need for him to stay with her and check up on her constantly but still he had done so. Possessive? If she were to cite Cal's seeming obsession with taking her out as possible and his reluctance to allow anyone to dance with her, then…yes.

Reynolds continued. "I know Cal's reputation with the women, and it seems to me that he's not been…active for some time now."

Gillian scoffed at that. "How can you be so sure? How do you know he's not seeing anyone?"

"Come on, Gillian. Whenever I call him about a case at night or during weekends, he's either out with you or he's in your house. When does he have the free time to date?"

When Reynolds turned them in time with the music, Gillian's line of vision caught Cal at the edge of the dance floor …talking with Clara Musso.

"Well, apparently now," she said. Her voice sounded hollow to her ears.

Reynolds turned his head to where she was looking. He whistled. "Clara. Now that's one woman who's made it very clear that she's got the hots for Cal."

Gillian was riveted to the sight. Cal's profile was to hers, and she could see him smiling faintly at Clara. Her heart constricted.

"But it's also clear to me that Cal doesn't feel the same way about her. Not anymore."

But Gillian was beyond processing what Reynolds had just said for she was looking at Clara, who was reaching up a hand to caress Cal's cheek. She tore her eyes away from them.

"Ben? I have to go to the ladies' room."

"You okay?"

Gillian dropped her arms and moved back a step. "Yes, I just need to freshen up." She forced a bright smile. "See you in a bit." And with that, she was off, disappearing behind the crowd of dancers.

Reynolds was left on the dance floor glancing between Cal and the direction where Gillian had gone.

* * *

"You just can't take your eyes off her, can you?"

Cal gave Reynolds and Gillian one last glance before turning his attention back to Clara. He really had to admire her for her efforts in trying to turn his head even after he'd expressly told her in the past that he wasn't interested in her anymore.

"Come again?" He honestly didn't hear her question or her entire monologue for that matter since she'd approached him a few minutes ago.

Clara pursed her lips and looked at him through lowered lids. "I said you just can't take your eyes off her."

"Oh, you mean Foster? Actually, I was looking at Reynolds …if his hands were still in their proper places…"

"You know, I'd like to believe that at one time I had you enthralled like that."

"At one time, yeah," he conceded. He tensed up when he felt her hand on his cheek. He jerked back immediately. "Look, Clara.—"

With a regretful smile, she withdrew her hand. "I know, I know. You've made yourself clear the last time. I guess I just wasn't prepared to see you looking so good in a tux…"

Giving her an uncomfortable smile, he turned away from her and looked towards the dance floor. But he couldn't find either Gillian or Reynolds.

* * *

After washing and drying her hands, Gillian stared unseeingly at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her reaction to seeing Cal with Clara again was more intense this time. A combination of hurt, disappointment, and jealousy settled heavily in her chest. She had no hold on his feelings... on him. She realized that unless Cal felt the same way she did about him, it didn't matter what Torres and Reynolds perceived about their relationship or whether the whole world thought that she and Cal would make a great couple. As things stand between them now, she'd not stand in the way of his love life no matter how much it hurt her.

She looked calm and composed when she walked back to the ballroom. She glanced towards the crowd for Cal.

"Finally. I've been waiting all night to catch you alone…Dr. Foster."

Gillian glanced towards the speaker. If not for the fading bruises and healing cuts on his face, she would not recognize him at all. His face was much worse than Cal's had been.

"Mr. Norton," she said formally.

"Call me Tom, please." Despite how his face looked, he still held himself confidently. In his late 40s, Tom Norton was a ruthless businessman known for his business savvy, shady deals, charisma, and womanizing ways. "You truly are a beautiful woman," he said with a charming smile.

Cautiously, Gillian only tilted her head in acknowledgment. She still didn't know the root of Cal's argument with this man, but between him and Cal there was no question on who she trusted. She'd only met Tom Norton once when he came to the Lightman Group, and it took only that one time for her to know that underneath the magnetic personality was a dubious character.

Norton noticed Gillian examining his face. "Ah yes. I'm sure you know that it was your partner who was responsible for my… rakish look tonight." He grinned.

"Yes, I do."

"Too bad about Cal withdrawing from our agreement. If he wasn't so protective of you, I'm sure both parties would've come away…satisfied."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't you know that it was because of you that Cal and I came to blows?"

Genuine shock was written all over Gillian's face.

"I guess not," Norton murmured. "Let me explain it to you, my dear. I want you. Like I said, you're a very beautiful woman. I made no bones about that to Cal the last time we met. I told him I had every intention of getting you to my bed. Not very professional of me, I know. But then again, I've never been known for my professionalism." He smirked. "So, surprised?"

Revulsion roiled in her stomach. "Repulsed is more like it," she managed to say.

From out of nowhere, Cal insinuated himself in front of Norton and pulled Gillian behind him. "Oi, Tom. I thought we agreed that you'd stay away from her." His tone was deceptively amiable, but his posture was clearly defensive.

"I was just having a decent conversation with her, Cal." Norton smirked. "Nothing hot and heavy."

Gillian pulled on Cal's arm. "Cal, let's just go."

But Norton would not be deterred. "I wonder why you didn't tell her that the reason why our contract didn't push through was because you didn't want me sniffing around her."

"She didn't have to know."

Norton directed his steely blue eyes at Cal. "I knew that your company's experiencing some financial setbacks, so you could just imagine my surprise when you favored saving Dr. Foster from my charms over a hefty contract. She really must mean more to you than just a business partner."

"She is everything to me." Cal's voice was dangerously quiet. "I'd do anything to protect her from a man like you."

Behind him, Gillian drew a deep breath.

Norton held his hands up. "All right," he said mockingly. He gave Gillian a final lascivious look-over. "Couldn't blame a man for trying." With that parting shot, he turned away and left.

Cal turned around to face her, his worried eyes looking her over. "You okay?"

Dumbly, she nodded.

"So now you understand why I had to sever our ties with him?"

"Why didn't you just tell me? I would've understood."

"Right. You would've been furious at me for allowing my protective instinct get the better of me. You would've tried to convince me that you could handle him. You've seen the man. I wasn't about to risk you being sexually harassed by that lecher."

She reached for him hand and squeezed it, giving him a rueful smile. "I'm glad you didn't."

Cal looked into her eyes. It was a long while before he spoke. "I think it's time we call it a night."

* * *

Cal glanced at Gillian. She was staring out the window at the passing scenery, seemingly engrossed. She was quiet, which was a good sign. She had a lot of contemplating to do considering how much he'd revealed about his feelings for her tonight. He knew she wasn't _that_ dense. She was just playing it safe, which he forgave her for. He didn't blame her for wanting to protect her heart from the likes of him. He only hoped he could make her see he was worth risking her heart for and that the risk wasn't just on her side but his as well.

His skin prickled as he felt Gillian's gaze on him. But when he turned his head, she immediately hid her face and turned to face the window again.

Cal's mouth twitched. Without taking his eyes off the road, he asked, "Are you trying to read me, Dr. Foster? Are you trying to figure out if I meant what I said to Norton?"

She was glad for the dark interior of the car because her cheeks were on fire, embarrassed at having been caught. Her mind had been preoccupied during the ride home. She hadn't gotten past Cal's declaration yet: _She is everything to me._ She had wanted to look at Cal's face again to determine if there was an ounce of truth to it. "Why do you think I'm even thinking about that? You a mind reader now? I thought you only read faces."

Cal laughed. "I love it when you deflect, darling."

"Who said I was deflecting?"

Apprehension. Just the reaction he was looking for. "Answer the question then." Cal turned right towards Gillian's street.

"There is nothing to figure out. I know you said it only to discourage Norton further."

"I'm not a voice expert like you but I can tell even you don't really believe what you're saying."

"Of course, I do. What other explanation could there be?"

Suddenly fed up with her being obtuse, Cal pulled up to her apartment with a muttered curse. The street lamp afforded them enough illumination to make their faces visible. He turned to face her, his expression set. "Look at me and tell me I didn't mean it when I said you were everything to me."

Taken aback by his sudden change in behavior, Gillian blurted out stubbornly, "You didn't mean it."

Cal gripped her arms. "_Look at me_."

Helplessly, Gillian obeyed, her eyes noting his facial expressions. "I-I can't read you," she whispered shakily.

"Can't or won't?

Gillian just stared at him with tormented eyes.

"The truth is all over my face."

"What is the truth, Cal?" she asked desperately.

"Didn't I tell you to get your eyes checked? I'm in love you, damn it!" he exploded. "I want you in every bloody way a man wants a woman. How many times do I have to ply you with dessert before you finally figure it out?"

She just shook her head, perversely in denial of Cal what saying.

"Damn stubborn woman," he growled before pulling her towards him and capturing her mouth.

Gillian's protestations were muffled by the hard impact of Cal's mouth on her own. Bold and insistent, his mouth courted her lips open. He groaned when his tongue finally gained entrance. She was hot and tasted of champagne. Her taste was more potent than what he'd gleaned from her coffee mugs. He gentled the kiss, allowing their lips to cling before he reluctantly tore his mouth from hers.

Her eyes were flooded with unshed tears, and her cheeks were flushed. Her breathing was ragged, as was his own. His hands cupped her face. "That was a long time coming, love," he murmured. His thumb strayed to her lips, wiping at the moisture. "Does that convince you?"

With her heart beating wildly in her chest and her emotions all over the place, Gillian did what any self-respecting woman would do. She bolted. She undid her seatbelt, gathered her wrap and purse, and ran out of the car as fast as her shaky legs could carry her.


End file.
